Ace's High
by gh43
Summary: SHIELD fishes Gambit out of the ocean after the Genosha incident and offers him a deal: Either be imprisoned for life--or worse be handed over to Magneto--or lead a mutant team Fury's put together. Obviously, Remy accepts. But maybe he shouldn't have...
1. Chapter 1

**Written as a sad, sad attempt to make Wolverine and the X-Men's Gambit a tad more likable. Also, every member of the team happens to be canon; made for either the 90's X-men show, the X-Men Evolution show, or the comics. So I own NOTHING but the plot. It all belongs to Stan Lee…or Disney, Disney owns Marvel now. (Scary, huh?) And Nickolodeon. **

* * *

Remy LeBeau awoke with a splitting headache. What's more, he wasn't entirely sure where he was. His last memory was sinking out in the ocean after that femme, Lorna, had used Magneto's helmet to smash his boat.

And though he couldn't quite remember, he was 95% percent sure she'd also beaned him with it, just for good measure.

He eventually managed to push himself up and take stock of his surroundings. The first thing he noticed was a mutant-resistant force field that he was currently behind—that, he'd found, usually did not bode well for him. The second thing he noticed was a S.H.I.E.L.D. logo on the other side of the field.

The last thing he noticed was a stiff looking guy with an eye patch staring at him from next to the logo.

"Good to see you've decided to come back to the land of the living," he man said dryly. "The name's Colonel Nick Fury, and I've got a proposition for you."

Gambit smirked, crossing his arms as he started to play a game he was well acquainted with—one of debating up prices. "An' why," he said smoothly, "would I be in'rested in a proposition?"

"For one thing, after that little stunt you pulled in Genosha, you've got yourself into a heap of trouble," Fury replied. "For one thing, you should know what they say about a woman scorned…"

Without meaning too, Remy's hand went to his throbbing head where a rather unappealing bump was appearing. Yeah, she'd definitely nailed him a time or two or fifty.

"For another thing, when the woman's family happens to consist of three of the most powerful mutants on the planet…"

Fury trailed off, allowing Gambit time to fully recall the rather…evil…look he'd remembered on Magneto's face shortly before the boat had sunk and he'd lost all consciousness. It really did not speak well for his future well-being.

"Add to that your…interesting…run in with Wolverine and the subsequent hatred of the X-Men, and we can all face facts," Fury gave Gambit a conniving smirk. "You need protection."

Remy chuckled slightly. "I c'n take care o' myself," he said. There was no way he would take a job based on somebody else's terms.

"Also, we've got enough dirt on your little Thieves Guild operations to put you away for a _very _long time," Fury added. "And not only will I lock you up and throw away the key, I'll personally see to it that that stick you carry is shoved right up your—"

"I tink mebbe I take you up on ya'll's offer," Gambit said hurriedly, interrupting Fury's little speech. For one thing, Fury was offering protection from an ever-increasing horde of Gambit-hunters. For another thing, Remy wasn't all that keen on being locked away in some prison for the rest of his life. Besides, he certainly didn't want anyone to do any shoving with his stick but him.

Fury made a brief motion with his hand and Gambit distinctively heard the sound of several weapons being lowered. Then the Colonel deactivated the force field and shook Remy's hand.

"Welcome to S.H.E.I.L.D."

* * *

Less than five minutes later, Gambit was following Colonel Fury through the many hallways of the S.H.I.E.L.D. helicarrier as Fury explained to him just what his new job's responsibilities were.

"With everyone having so much fun with the impending mutant/human war, it seems that most of the countries special intelligence divisions have been ignoring all the more common, less interesting, normal threats to national security," Fury was saying. "That's a mistake I don't intend to make."

"Dis is excitin' an' all, but where 'm I s'posed ta fit in?" Gambit questioned.

"Shut yer gum hole; I'm getting to that," Fury snapped. "In the interests of national security, I've taken the liberty to create a black ops mutant group that answers to S.H.I.E.L.D. and S.H.I.E.L.D. alone—nix that," Fury shrugged. "To me, and me alone."

The corners of Gambit's mouth curved upward. "Wha's the matta, Fury, can't cha make up yore mind?"

"Let's just say that in my line of work, it pays to be paranoid," Fury explained. "Your job is to infiltrate, gather intel, take out whoever needs taken out—and of course, if you're captured, I don't know you from the mystery meat in my Grandma's potluck."

"Naturally."

Fury finally stopped beside a closed door and turned to look at Gambit for the first time. "Of course, gathering a crack mutant team takes time. Time is something we don't have right now. You take what we give you, and you get them in shape to do what they need to do. I can give you three weeks to train, afterwards you're on your own." Fury entered the doorway and appeared a second later with a bunch of dossiers. "Meet your new team," he ordered.

Gambit took the dossiers and opened the first one. On it was a picture of a young woman, probably Asian, with long black hair with purple bangs.

"Elisabeth Braddock, a.k.a. Psylocke. Your resident telepath. She can also create purple stun bolts of psychic energy that can subdue, injure, or even kill a target. She likes to create psychic swords and jab it into people's heads," Fury said, having apparently memorized the information.

"Fun gal," Gambit quipped, opening the next flyer.

The next dossier had a photo of a young Caucasian male with sholder-length blonde hair. He had three fingers and a thumb on either hand.

"Longshot—ain't got no other name," Fury stated. "He's from an alternate dimension. Superhuman speed, agility, endurance, and reflexes. Also supposed to have heightened healing abilities. Can psonically alter probability fields to give himself 'good luck.' Works even when he doesn't consciously will it too. However, if he does it with evil or selfish intent, or loses hope, this power will fail or even backfire, giving him bad luck. Also, using 'good luck' for him will create 'bad luck' for somebody else. Can telepathically 'read' recent memories if he makes skin contact with someone. Can hear thoughts of people by touching objects they've touched. Hardwired into his DNA that most women will fall in love with him. Carries cleaver-like blades that he throws with inhuman accuracy, dependant on his luck powers."

"How long it take you ta memorize dat little speech?" Gambit asked amused. He opened the next dossier to reveal a Caucasian male with short black hair and two pitch black circles around his eyes.

"Kevin Sydney, a.k.a Morph. One of those shape shifters. He can alter his physical appearance and vocal cords to mimic anyone else."

"Looks creepy," Gambit offered. Fury gave him a dirty look until he shrugged and opened the next dossier. It showed a Chinese teenaged girl with short black hair with pink plastic goggles, pink shirt, blue jean shorts, and a horribly clashy bright yellow raincoat looking thing with no sleeves, and white gloves.

"Jubilation Lee, or Jubilee for short," Fury explained. "She creates fireworks of explosive plasma."

Gambit simply raised an eyebrow and went to the next dossier. It was another teenaged girl; with long brunette hair and a mean look to her face.

"X-23, a.k.a. Laura Kinney. She's Wolverine's cloned daughter. Has his powers and healing factor, as well as two claws on either hand and one claw on either foot."

Gambit's face _might _have gotten a tad paler, but it was hard to tell. He quietly and quickly turned to the next dossier. It showed a teenaged African-American boy with shockingly blonde hair that looked shaped into a crew cut.

"Evan Daniels, a.k.a. Spyke. He can an extend and retract bone spikes that grow inside his body and shoot them, or bring them out and grab and hold. Needs to drink a lot of milk to replace calcium he loses with his powers. He's an expert skateboarder. And he HAS to have an accelerated healing rate to heal the holes that have to open when his bones extend. He's also the nephew of Storm."

Gambit quickly scanned his memory for reasons that Storm—and therefore Spyke—might bear him ill will. He couldn't think of anything, so he opened the last dossier. It had a picture of a Caucasian male with short, curly blonde hair. According to the info, the man was from Australia.

"St. John Allerdyce, a.k.a. Pyro. Can mentally control fire by shaping it as he desires, increasing or decreasing it's heat, intensity, or size. He cannot create fire, however, and has a special suit that sports flamethrowers for him to use. Can throw flame to a distance of 25 feet away. He cannot be harmed by fire he's controlling, but can be hurt by fire he's not controlling. How much concentration it takes to control the fire depends on how complex and/or big it is. The fire reverts to normal when he stops controlling it."

Gambit closed the last dossier and handed the pile back to Fury. "Sound like an in'restin' bunch," he said simply.

"Glad you think so," Fury said, motioning Remy to follow him to another room. The Colonel opened the door and stepped back, allowing Remy to walk in.

Gambit stepped into the doorway and froze, his eyes widening in shock.

Inside, the room had been _totaled. _To the left, the wall bore several claw marks—hauntingly familiar marks—and X-23 was busy creating more. A savage light was in her eyes, but she was grinning. Next to most of the claw marks were scorch marks, provided by Jubilee. Apparently, the two were having a 'Let's see who can cause the most damage' competition.

At the other side of the room, Spyke was eagerly explaining skateboarding techniques to Longshot, who was holding a stuffed teddy bear and listening with rapt attention. Psylocke was also there, but she looked like she was in pain—although that was because Spyke wouldn't shut up, or because she kept hitting her head on the table, or some combination of the two, one couldn't really be sure.

But the major shock came from the center room, where Pyro had four fire-buzzards circling a stool, on top of which Senator Kelly was dancing a jig and singing the Spongebob Squarepants theme. Both Pyro and the good senator were laughing like…well…like they were insane.

Fury produced a small machine and pressed a button. A loud whistle emerged from it, causing everyone to stop and hold their ears, crying out in pain. Senator Kelly twisted and eventually changed his form back to that of Morph. The fire vultures vanished. And everyone else stopped what they were doing to look at Fury.

"Now that I have your attention," the Colonel jabbed his thumb towards Remy. "This here's Remy LeBeau, a.k.a. Gambit. He'll be your leader, teacher, trainer, and C.O. from now on." Fury turned to Gambit and gave him a rather wicked looking grin. "Good luck," he admonished, walking out.

Remy suddenly found himself the center of attention in a room full of less-than-happy-to-be-roped-into-this-whole-thing mutants. Mutants who were _not _giving him pleased looks.

You know, life imprisonment wasn't looking like such a bad thing, after all.


	2. Chapter 2

**I still don't own nobody. Officer Swanson is the only SHIELD agent with a name in the Marvel Ultimate Alliance 2 game. Any French in the chapter is courtesy an online translator, so you've had your warning.**

* * *

"_Bon Jour_," Gambit said, his hand instinctively reaching towards his cards. He might need them presently.

Luckily, his precautions didn't prove necessary. He was attacked; but it was with an endless flurry of questions rather than physical assault. Although the assault might have been preferable; he knew how to handle that. The questions, however…

"Hey, why'd they drag me to this cruddy place?"

"Where's the butane, mate?"

"Lock me up if you want to, but I'm not attacking other mutants!"

"When do I get my one phone call?"

"What kind of a name is Remy?"

"I have to go to the bathroom!"

Gambit quickly regained his composure and grabbed a card, charging it and throwing it into the air where it exploded, causing everyone to fall silent.

The Cajun took a deep breath and endeavored to answer everyone's questions in the order he'd gotten them. "I don' care, I dunno, Ya do wha' yore tol', ain't m' problem, is m' name, an' hol' it." Gambit's red orbs scanned the room, silently willing them to shut up and listen to him. To his great relief, they complied.

"Now, sit down," he ordered, and everyone grudgingly took a seat. "Firs' tings firs': I ain't any happier 'bout dis dan ya'll are. Dey dun conned ol' Remy inta dis cuz he ain't got no ot'er way out. 'M tinking dey dun da same ting wit' you."

A few muttered 'yeahs,' were his answer. "Now, right now de only ting we can do is what dey tell us. Ot'erwise, we up de creek wit'out de paddle. When de time come, we can get outta here, _oui_? In de meantime, it be best to start learnin' how ta work toget'er. Any questions?"

Longshot raised his hand. "I'm hungry. Can we eat yet?"

Gambit's jaw dropped in shock and he blinked several times at Longshot's innocent look.

"I got a candy bar," Jubilee said, offering it to Longshot. The mutant's eyes lit up eagerly and he took a big bite of it.

Pyro raised his hand. "Hey, mate, mebbe we can all storm the castle walls and sick rabid fire ants on 'em, and then dance our achin' tails off!"

"Our tails aren't aching," Morph pointed out.

"So?"

"So how can we dance our aching tails off if our tails don't ach?"

"Ooh, you gotta point, mate. Well, maybe we can kick each other an' then…"

Gambit moaned and clutched his head. "I got so much work ta do…" he muttered.

* * *

TRAINING, DAY 1

"Now, ya jus' listen ta Remy, now," Gambit was standing at the starting point of an elaborate training ground provided by Nick Fury for their purposes. For this exercise, the area was dimly lit, with a narrow path full of pitfalls, twists and turns, unhappy S.H.I.E.L.D. agents walking around as guards, revolving spotlights, and many painful-looking traps. The lucky (Or unlucky) recruit who was supposed to run this course, Spyke, was looking over it with a 'are you all crazy!?' look on his face.

"Yore gonna get from one end ta de ot'er wit'out getting' caught, spotted, or fall inta any o' dose traps, _homme._"

Evan's eyes lit up. "Oh, so it's like those Splinter Cell games!"

Gambit glared at him. "_Non_. It ain't like dose Splinta Cell games. Here ya ain't got no do-overs. Ya mess up an' yore dead, got it?"

"Dead?" Spyke squeaked.

"_Aller," _Gambit ordered, pushing Spyke past the starting point. Spyke panicked and ran right into a spotlight, causing an alarm to go off, causing all the well-trained S.H.I.E.L.D. agents to turn and fire at him. Luckily the bullets were blanks, so Spyke didn't have to change his name to Hole, but it did freak him out so he powered up and tossed several bone sticks towards the guards. While no one was killed, the med center did have a very strange case of guards walking in pretending to be toothpick holders.

Spyke looked up at Gambit hopefully. "So, how'd I do, teach?"

Gambit looked at him and simply walked away, ranting some rather unkind remarks in French.

* * *

TRAINING DAY 3

A new day, a new training session. This one was a well-lit room that looked like an office building, complete with terrified hostages and armed guards. After the incident with Spyke, however, Fury wasn't about to let them use _real _guards, so all hostages/guards were robot copies.

Gambit turned to X-23 and gave her some last minute instructions. "_Petite, _yore job is ta take out de guards an' save de hostages. Ever' five minutes anut'er hostage dies. Ya s'posed ta get de most hostages out dat ya can. If all de hostages die, ya fail. Ready?"

Gambit didn't even get to say go. X-23 was off in a blur of motion, snarling, hacking, slashing, punching, dodging, destroying…

She finished in less than five minutes. Only one problem…

"Ya done gone an' kill all de hostages! Why you no attack de bad guys, _petite?!"_

X-23 looked surprised and looked back at her handiwork. Sure enough, all the 'guards' were fine and dandy, while all the hostages were shattered heaps lying on the floor. "They all look alike," she said defensively.

"De hostages are de ones tied up! De guards got de big guns an' de blue uniforms!" Gambit yelled.

"Oh…"

At that (Rather unfortunate) moment, a poor, helpless, defenseless S.H.I.E.L.D. agent in the custom blue uniform with the mandatory big gun rushed into the room. "Colonel Fury wants to know…"

_SNIFT!!!_

"AUGH!!!" screamed the guard. "Not again!"

Gambit winced. Apparently the poor guard had been in the room when Spyke also displayed his fighting prowess.

* * *

TRAINING DAY 6

"Longshot, _mon ami_, today yore gonna learn about accuracy. Ya see dose targets?" Remy motioned towards the various targets (which—by Fury's orders—where humanoid in shape but were neither blue nor had big guns) that were on the other side of the 50 ft. room. The Cajun thief coolly whipped out a card, charged it, and tossed it, nailing a target dead-center. "You do what Gambit done, _oui_? Wit' all de targets. Comprendre?"

Longshot nodded, his eyes showing a shocking amount of childlike innocence as he grabbed some of his trusty throwing knives and carelessly tossed them around, a star appearing behind his left eye for a fraction of a second. Each knife found its way to the dead-center of a training dummy.

"_Aucune maniere! _How you…oh…" Gambit grinned knowingly. "Yore _chanceux. _Shoulda r'membered dat."

Gambit really _should _have remembered that Longshot's powers made him extremely lucky. But even so, he had this nagging feeling that he was forgetting something else relating to Longshot's powers. Something important…

Gambit leaned against the nearby wall to think. But surprisingly, he lost his balance and fell heavily to the floor, his head bouncing off the back of the wall. At the same instant, the poor S.H.I.E.L.D. agent they'd unwittingly tortured mercilessly for days happened to walk into the training area to state that lunch was being served in the mess hall; just as Longshot threw another knife. It hit the poor guard dead center. (It's a good thing those outfits they wear are so thick, if you get what I'm saying.)

Oh, duh. Longshot's powers made him lucky, but it made those around him unlucky. How could he have forgotten that?

Gambit winced as he lifted his throbbing head up and looked over at the terrified S.H.I.E.L.D. agent who was freaking out over being stabbed. "Sorry, Agent Swanson," he apologized.

"It's ok," Agent Swanson said, calming down. "I didn't need my heart, anyway."

* * *

TRAINING DAY 12

Gambit put the finishing touches on today's training session, putting the last terrified innocent into place. After the last…incident…Fury had banned the use of any items remotely resembling human life, limbs, internal organs, or viral infections thereof. The Cajun thief had had to paint frowny faces on bags of sand and use them for their targets/innocents.

Today's challenge was a bit more challenging. The recruit—Pyro, this time—had to carry a bomb into a secure location and blow up a safe without alerting anyone's attention beforehand. Gambit had put buzzers on the sandbags so that if Pyro 'alerted' anyone it would go off, consequentially failing him.

Pryo confidently walked into the room, stood right in the center, and raised his flamethrowers. "BURN BABY!!!" he screamed, 'opening fire' just as every buzzer in the room went off. In a fraction of a second the buzzers had melted into a toothpaste-like substance and the buzzing stopped.

Poor Agent Swanson, who apparently had the job of showing up whenever something was going wrong around the training dome, rushed into the room in time to get his clothes set on fire. Screaming, the agent stopped, dropped, and rolled, until the flames were put out. Coincidentally, this happened to be about the same time the bomb went off.

The bomb wasn't a real bomb, however, and the sprinkler system kicked on, dousing the flames quickly, to the chagrin of Pyro.

The mutant rubbed his hands together. "'Ow's that for a performance, mate?" he asked.

Remy handed Pyro a charred piece of a sandbag, which had miraculously survived. It happened to sport a frowny face. "I don' tink ya did such a good job," he said. "See?"

"What's the problem?" St. John looked genuinely confused as he took the face and turned it upside down. "It's smilin'!"

Another one of Gambit's headaches started to get to him, and he rubbed his head ruefully as he turned to Agent Swanson. "You alright, Dan?" he asked.

"Nothing a little aloe vera can't cure," Dan Swanson said.

"'Ow 's yer kid, mate?" Pyro asked.

"She turned three last week, thanks for asking," Dan said, eager to change the subject.

* * *

TRAINING DAY 21

Gambit held his breath as his team did their mission. It was more complex, and required everyone to work together, including him. The object of this course was for everyone to clear guards, disengage traps and safety measures, and set everything up so that he could steal an important document. ("Hey, why does your important document look like a cookie recipe?" Morph had asked suspiciously.)

Yes, Remy LeBeau was stealing a cookie recipe. A major low in his career, but when he'd asked Fury to lend him an important document for the training session, the Colonel had started laughing hysterically for some reason. While he'd never answered the question, Gambit had the feeling that he meant, _no._

Gambit held his breath as he snuck along a narrow corridor, knowing that if Psylocke hadn't done her job he would be given a nasty jolt when he rounded it.

_"Gambit, you're three seconds early. Hold position."_

Gambit paused as Dan's voice cut through the transmitter placed in his ear. They'd all spent so much time with Dan Swanson that they'd made him an Honorary Team Member. It was his job to stand at a safe distance (Emphasis on SAFE) and monitor them through a recording device they had on their person and ensure that everyone remained on-time and other such things.

_"Go! Go! Go!"_

Gambit quickly resumed his previous pace, closed his eyes, and rounded the corner. No shock. He grinned as he realized that meant Psylocke had actually done her job. That meant he was in the clear.

Remy felt pleased. He'd gone through the whole course completely dependant on his team's ability to perform and they'd all come through it. Now all he had to do was reach the recipe, which he did with ease.

They'd successfully completed the mission.

The lights came on, the session ran down, and his team rushed over, cheering at the thought of actually doing something right for once.

"Now all we need is a name," Jubilee said presently.

"Pardon?"

"You can't have a superhero team without a name," Jubilee explained.

"We're not a superhero team!" Morph pointed out. "We're government lackeys."

"Who said government lackeys can't have a team name, mate?" Pyro shot back.

Gambit just blinked as the names started coming fast and furious.

"38 special!"

"Avengers!"

"X-Women!"

This suggested was met with furious opposition, particularly from Morph and Pyro.

"There's four men on this team! We can't call ourselves X-Women!" Morph whined.

"There's women in the X-Men and they don't complain," Psylocke pointed out.

"How do you know?" Spyke demanded.

"X-People, then?"

"Let's call ourselves Madonna!"

"What do you think I am?" Pyro asked. "A sicko? Besides, if we're using a name like that, we should be called Cher."

"I like Boston!"

"Molly Hatchet RULES!"

"Wha' ya'll talkin' 'bout?" Gambit blurted out. "I t'ought ya'll were pickin' a team name, not havin' a music lover's convention!"

"Why don't you call yourself Classified?" Dan suggested, sipping on a soft drink.

Everyone turned and gave him a weird look. Dan shrugged. "That way, if anybody asks what your name is, you can say Classified."

"That's…actually not a bad idea," Jubilee admitted.

"It's better than Boston," X-23 growled.

"SOME of us happen ta like Boston, you cranky little shiela!" Pyro huffed. "They've got some great songs, like that one, More than a Feeling."

"If you don't shut up, you'll have _no _feeling," X-23 warned, her claws extending to help make her point.

Frankly, Gambit couldn't care less what they called themselves. All that mattered was, his team was combat ready.

It was time to show Colonel Fury what they could do.


	3. Chapter 3

**Here we are! The first mission. Just what is it they will be called to do? Read on, true believers…(I can't believe I said that with a straight face. Oh wait, I didn't.)**

**Disclaimer: Do I own it? I don't think so.**

* * *

For some strange reason, Colonel Fury wasn't at all convinced that Gambit's team was ready. But the Colonel was strange like that.

"I'll tell you what," Fury said finally. "If your team can figure out what the most heavily guarded item on this ship is and swipe it right out from under SHIELD's collective nose, then I'll believe you. Until then, get out of my way."

Fury nodded to two of his lackeys and they 'escorted' Gambit out of the room and shut the door behind him. The Ragin' Cajun smirked at the closed door.

"Gambit do like a challenge," he said with a devilish smirk. "Ooh, Fury, y' might've bit off more 'n y' c'n chew."

That night, the Classified team was huddled together in Gambit's quarters. Dan Swanson was also there, explaining the many things on the ship that were under heavy security. But as Remy had thought, even Dan had no idea what the most heavily guarded item on the ship was. No one did, except for two people.

One was Fury. And the other, was Remy Lebeau. Gambit had made it his top priority to find out after the good Colonel had booted him out the door. And Gambit always found out what he wanted to know.

* * *

**1:15 a.m.**

"_Ecoutez maintenant_," Gambit ordered, as he and his team sat around a large table. A map of the inside of the helicarrier was stretched out on the table. "De target is here," Remy pointed to an area on the map. "Now, dere are sensor traps here, here, here, dere next to de door, dere, all along de roof an' walls…actually, dere are cameras, sensors, and what have y' all over de whole area."

"That's a lot of security," Jubilee said, whistling lowly.

"Dat;s what makes de job fun," Gambit replied, smirking softly. "Now, here's what I need y' ta do. Jubilee, y' go to de second level an' ready de jar, jus' like we trained."

"Right, boss," Jubilee giggled.

"Morph, y' need ta keep Black Widow busy, _s'il vous plait_."

Morph giggled dangerously and nodded, giving Gambit a thumbs up.

Gambit turned to X-23. "We need s'me special friends, _petite_, right along de southern corridor."

X-23 nodded and unsheathed her claws.

"Longshot, y' need to go eat lunch," Gambit ordered.

Longshot nodded. "I like lunch," he said innocently.

"Pyro, y' job is ta go play in de water."

"Aw. You mates are no fun," Pyro moaned.

"Dan, y' stay here an' work," Remy said, looking at his watch. "Ever'body synch yo're watches, now. Psylocke an' Spyke, y' come wit' me an' I'll explain yore jobs on de way. Let's _aller_."

* * *

**1:30 a.m.**

Jubilee cautiously walked to the room with the security monitor and peeked to make sure everyone inside hadn't noticed her. She crept to a nearby room and laid down a small black mason-jar looking thing. She pushed a few buttons and a countdown appeared, and the jar started beeping.

Jubilee then jumped up and rushed to the security room. "Help!" she screamed. "There's a bomb in the engine core!"

The room was empty, except for one grinning mutant, in less than three seconds flat as the security guards scrambled to stop the bomb and save the ship. A red alert beacon started to sound.

Jubilee whistled happily and lowered her pink visor to shield her eyes. Then she took a finger and gently powered up ever so slightly, running it across all the security monitors. A small _zip _was her reward as the monitors shorted out. Then she quickly popped in a pre-recorded tape and the monitors started to show mutant-free halls. Then she popped in another tape and stopped the sirens.

_"This has been a test of the emergency alert systems status," _the tape droned over the ship's loudspeakers. _"If this had been an actual emergency, orders would have followed._"

This done, Jubilee brushed off her hands and turned to face several very unhappy security guards, covered in glue and confetti. One was holding an opened mason jar.

* * *

**1:32 a.m.**

Something was not right around here. The Black Widow could feel it in her bones. First the ship's warning sirens started to go off, then a recording that it was all a test? No, Fury didn't have tests without her knowledge. Something was terribly wrong, and she needed to warn him.

Widow turned a corner and bumped right into Fury.

"Colonel Fury," Widow saluted smartly. "Sir, did you authorize any tests of the ship's warning system?"

"What's it to ya?" Fury asked.

Widow was taken aback. "Sir, it's just that I wasn't notified—""  
"What, do I have to tell you everything I'm going to do? Who's the superior officer here? Do I need to page you whenever I'm about to do something? Want me to call you up and say, 'Hey, Widow, I'm about to use the can. ETA for the payload?' Is that what you want?"

"I…no, sir, I…"

"That's what I thought," Fury huffed. "Don't forget I've been kicking butt back when your momma was wipin' yours. Now get out of my way."

"Yes…sir…" Widow conceded, stepping out of the way to let him pass.

Fury turned back to her and snapped, "And get back to your post, woman!"

"Yes, sir!" Widow saluted again and hurried back to her command.

* * *

**1:34 a.m.**

A nice guard was playing poker with his buddies when he thought he heard something, like a soft _SHINK_. He started and looked over to where the pens for the mutated animals he and his buddies were supposed to guard.

"What's with you, Bill?" One guard asked.

"I thought I heard something," Bill replied.

"Aw, you're imagining things," said another guard. "Anybody set foot in here and the sensors would set off an alarm. You should know that."

"Yeah," Bill said, laughing nervously. "Duh."

At the next second, all the alarms went off simultaneously and the guards jumped up, twirling and putting their attention on the animal's cages.

"T-they're empty!" Bill shrieked. "Somehow all the cage doors are open! The animals are running loose!"

As if to confirm his theory, at that moment a three-foot-tall ant with the head of a porcupine waddled into view, it's mandibles clicking together contentedly.

"Oh, man, we've got to get these animals back in their cages fast," Bill moaned.

* * *

**1:35 a.m.**

Colonel Nick Fury walked into his bathroom after a long day and sighed, stepping into his shower and turning on the hot water, allowing it to sooth his aching muscles. He was really tired right now, and a nice, relaxing rest in his bed sounded so good to him…

All of a sudden, the water suddenly got so hot that it felt as if it was literally melting his skin off. Fury yelped with the sudden burst of heat and twisted the cold water knob. Instead of a cooler, soothing stream of water, the water got twice as hot as before. Unable to take the burning heat, Fury half jumped, half stumbled out of his shower, his blinded by the water, and almost slipped on his back. Hastily drying off and tossing on his clothes haphazardly, Fury stumbled into his bedroom and his eyes widened. Silly string hand been strung about all over the place, the words, CLASSIFIED WUZ HERE was pinned to his bed using Spyke's…err…spikes, and his eye patch was not on the lamppost where he'd left it. Instead, was a playing card.

The Ace of Spades.

* * *

**1:50 a.m.**

Fury, brimming with the emotion of his namesake, threw open the doors to Classified's headquarters, to be met by five happy male members, wild cheers, a picture (courtesy of Morph) and the site of three females bedazzeling an eye on his eye patch.

Fury stomped up to Gambit and jabbed a finger into the mutant's face, but Gambit cut him off.

"Y' said y' wanted us ta steal de most heavily guarded item on de ship," Gambit reminded him.

Fury gaped at him for a long moment, because yes, he had told Gambit that, and he had to admit that stealing his eyepatch right under his own nose did require skill. Still…

"How'd you do it?" he asked.

"That was simple, Colonel," Dan Swanson said, pulling up some recordings of the group's 'work' and explaining the process to Fury.

_"Jubilee faked a bomb emergency to get the guards out of the monitoring room, giving her time to short-circuit the monitors and put in a pre-recorded video so the guards wouldn't see Psylocke, Spyke, and Gambit going through the hallways. Then she conned her way out of trouble by making the guards think she had been sent by you to test their bomb defusing abilities and they had failed."_

Jubilee held up a wad of cash. "They were more than willing to let bygones be bygones," she grinned.

Fury mentally noted that he had some security guards who needed court-marshalled, but kept silent as Dan continued to explain the process Classified had used to steal his eye patch.

_"Of course, the sirens going off alerted Black Widow, but Morph changed to look like you and kept her off our track. During this time, X-23 using her claws to stay off the ground and thusly avoiding the motion sensors, freed all the animals down in the labs. The animals set off so many sensor alarms that nobody noticed a few extra alarms going off when Gambit and Co. entered your room."_

Fury smirked in spite of himself. He had to admit that was pretty good.

_"When you went to take your shower, Psylocke, Gambit, and Spyke each had two minutes to do their collective jobs—Gambit swiped your patch, Psylocke silly stringed your room and Spyke left our 'message.' After the two minutes were up and they'd left the room, Pyro, using a lighter he'd snuck past some guards, superheated the water pipes, causing you to jump out of your shower so you could witness our handiwork."_

"Was there any particular reason you had to burn me like a boiled lobster?" Fury asked dryly.

"Actually, that was just for fun," Pyro admitted.

"I see," Fury yanked his eye patch from the girls and put it on, ignoring the half-an-eye bedazzled on it. "First, you're all going to be confined to the brig for two weeks for this little stunt."

Everyone moaned loudly and Fury smirked.

"Afterwards," he continued, "I'll brief you on your first official mission."


End file.
